Dead and Gone, With The Wind
by Meg2
Summary: Two standalone POVs. Follows the first chapter of Dead and Gone. Spoilers for all eight books, "Gift Wrap" and the first chapter of Dead and Gone.
1. Chapter 1

**Dead and Gone, With The Wind**

(PLEASE NOTE THAT IF YOU HAVE BEEN READING MY OTHER SERIES OF STORIES THAT THESE TWO ONE SHOTS ARE TOTALLY UNRELATED TO THAT SERIES)

A/N- These two one shots take place immediately after the first chapter of _Dead and Gone, _which you can read on Charlaine Harris's website. Charlaine Harris writes the Southern Vampire Series/Sookie Stackhouse Series, and as Malanna so eloquently puts it, I hope she doesn't mind my playing with Eric and Sookie for a bit.

* * *

_**Sookie**_

I gave him a look and he removed his feet from the coffee table. The bottle of True Blood was carefully replaced on the coaster near my glass of sweet tea. After putting the DVD into the player, I sat back down on the couch and pulled the quilt over me. I was skeptical about watching an almost four hour movie, but it was his choice, so what could I say. While we waited for all the FBI warnings and the menu selections, we made small talk that was oddly uncomfortable considering how happy we seemed to be to see each other when he arrived. We'd been all smiles and I'd received as warm a hug as you were ever going to get from a dead man.

"So how is the shifter's mother?"

"She'll be okay, but it was a close call. She lost a lot of blood."

I was slightly amused by the effort because I was sure Eric really didn't care about Sam, or Sam's mother, who'd been shot by her husband two days before on the night of the Were Revelation when she'd shifted to show her husband what the revelation was all about. But he knew I cared, so I guess it was thoughtful. Sam had left me in charge of running Merlotte's so that he could go watch over his mom in Texas. It was Sunday and Terry Bellefleur, Tray Dawson and I had spent a good part of the day organizing things, since we were closed for the day. We'd decided to go over schedules and see where we were on inventory items, since Sam had had so little chance to get things set for his departure.

"What did she change into, that he got so scared he shot her?"

"You know, actually I don't even know. I forgot to ask him. Maybe he was just so startled. Who knows. Are you fine without captions? Lived here long enough to get all the Deep South accents including the fake ones?"

"Yes, that's fine. So you are managing okay with the bar?"

"A work in progress. Terry and Tray are covering the bartending part. The major problem is being down a waitress because Arlene quit in a hissy-fit over Sam being a shifter. But I can do all the rest of stuff like ordering, accounting, setting the schedules and all that. He told the bank I could do payroll but we're all on EFT, so it shouldn't be much of a problem. I can just do it on the computer from the office. I just have to calculate the hours. It's mostly just finding a new waitress to replace Arlene and stuff."

"You know, if you would like any help…"

I cut him off. "No, we're fine. But thanks for the offer." I didn't want to seem rude about it. But I was not indebting Sam to Eric Northman without his knowledge, that was for sure. Besides, the last time Eric tried to lend Sam a hand, the bartender he sent tried to kill me, though through no direct fault of Eric's.

"Heard from Niall?"

I hit the pause button. "Eric are we gonna watch the movie or not?"

"I presume you have seen the opening credits?"

I rolled my eyes but did not hit play. "Yes, I have, but I'm trying to figure out if you want to talk or watch."

I got this wave of his wanting to do other things but considering this was only the second time I'd seen the man in the past two and a half months, he was kidding himself if he thought that was going anywhere. I hadn't seen him since Christmas. He and Pam had come to see me on Christmas Night, shortly after my Great-Grandfather, Niall Brigant, had departed. Pam had wryly commented that the potpourri that I was using to scent my house was quite intoxicating.

"Well, we haven't had much of chance to talk recently," he said with a faint smile.

What could he mean by that? He hadn't had the promised 'talk' with me, but that was fine. Better than fine probably. There had been a continuous stream of flowers, 'thinking of you' messages on my cell phone and the occasional conversation at odd hours. Far better than the attention offered by some men I'd dated, actually. In fact about two and a half months ago I'd broken up with a man who'd shown me less attention than Eric had and who had almost gotten us all killed on top of it.

I had called to thank Eric for every floral arrangement and had withstood the occasional awkwardness of returning every message, even though, with the exception of organizing an upcoming trip to Las Vegas, the reasons for his calls were not exactly crystal clear. We usually just chatted about odds and ends. Although I was always maddeningly happy to hear his voice, sometimes I just couldn't figure out why he'd called me.

"We chatted just this past week," I pointed out. That conversation was a longer one, because he'd called me to tell me that Felipe de Castro, the new King of Louisiana, wished me to attend a celebration in Las Vegas, Nevada, his home base, next month. It was plain this was not an invitation for which kind regrets were an option.

"Actually, I have to discuss a bit more about the travel arrangements with you." He looked slightly hesitant to go there as he said it, however.

I sighed and just gave up, putting the dvd player's remote on the coffee table. _Gone with the Wind_ was going to be epically long at this rate. I looked at the frozen image on the TV screen, the cast of characters with Tara in the background, then turned to look at the gorgeous Viking vampire on the couch near me. I had set myself at a safe distance away from him but noticed that the gap was closing as he'd slyly managed to move closer and closer over the past few minutes.

I waited, but it took him a minute or two to decide what he was going to say. I touched a spot on my quilt that I was going to have to restitch, examining it carefully and tucking the loose fabric back under with my fingernail.

"When did you break with the Tiger?" he asked in a nice, neutral tone of voice.

I looked up at him with a look that must have clearly conveyed the fact that I really did not think that was any of his business. His deep blue eyes sparkled a bit as he looked over at me. He smirked. It was really hard to be mad at Eric, especially since he seemed to have recovered a lot of his former good humor with me since recovering his memories of our one brief week together. But it was none of his business and if he knew me, he knew that.

"Why would that be any of your business, Eric?" I asked, trying not to have too much edge to my voice.

"I would like to know," he replied, looking at me intently.

I considered how to answer, since I didn't really see why he would like to know. But fine, if he wanted to know, I'd tell him.

"About six hours after you, Bill and that Victor Madden left my house. And that's all I'll say on the subject." I'd awakened to Quinn sitting, uninvited, in my bedroom chair and had pretty much shown him the door, even though I knew the Nevada vamps had had his mother and that was how he'd become involved in the takeover.

He looked thoughtful and nodded. "That will work well, then." I suddenly got the feeling that he was really very pleased with my response.

"What will work? What's it to you?"

"It's more what it is to you, which is looking as if you have waited an 'appropriate' length of time."

"I'm beginning to feel like I'm doing one of those Jumble puzzles in the newspaper where I'm supposed to figure out the answer to a riddle from a whole bunch of words or letters that I rearrange. You're not making any sense."

"We're sharing the room. In Vegas. Felipe is under the impression that you're mine, and I'm certainly not doing anything to let him to think otherwise."

Well that was just charming.

"It's so nice that my feelings on the matter were taken into consideration. I'm so flattered that _my_ opinion matters to all of you."

I was mad. In fact, I was even madder because I'd blushed. I got up to take his empty bottle of blood to the kitchen. As I turned from rinsing the bottle in the sink, he just zoomed into view, looming over me. He placed his arms on either side of me, effectively pinning me against the sink. I did not look up at him, which was quite a long way up, at first.

"Sookie, the arrangements were made by Felipe's staff. As I said, I have no intention of leading him to believe otherwise as to whom you belong. And I really wouldn't think you'd want to do so, either."

"What I'd want would be to not go at all. Or to have a choice about where and with whom I stay. Is Pam in the same room?"

"Pam is not attending. On the positive side, I've gotten us tickets to several shows, including the Cirque du Soleil. I thought you would enjoy that."

"But I thought you said that the two nights were already scheduled with various formalities and everything?" I pointed out, as I finally looked up at him.

"We're staying two extra days." He smiled down at me.

What?! Her brain rebelled at the very idea.

"Eric, that's two extra days I miss work! I _need_ to work, remember? And I only asked Sam for three days off. Now it looks like it could be five days off? We're already short staffed. I can't do that to Sam."

"I'll send him someone from the club to work in your place then. Don't worry about it."

What weighed even more on my mind was that I really couldn't afford to lose that much salary. A full week off from work with no pay, because Felipe was not paying me to go to his little fete. I was supposed to be honored to be a human invited by a vampire King to the events. I was getting more than a little agitated at the whole idea. That was a quarter of the month off. I simply could _not_ afford it. I'd have to dip into savings to do that. What if something happened in the house or my car broke down? My mind just started spinning with worry.

Eric tipped my chin up toward him and smiled. "I've gotten Felipe to agree to pay what Sophie-Anne owed you for Rhodes, Lover. So I think you'll come back with money in the bank, don't worry."

I was shocked. I had thought that money was lost for good. Sophie-Anne owed me fifteen thousand dollars for my work in Rhodes and when she died, I thought her debts had likely died with her. I was pretty much speechless.

"Thank you, Eric. I really thought the money was just lost." That was property tax, insurance and upkeep money, all rolled into one. I simply couldn't believe he'd gotten Felipe to make good on Sophie-Anne's debt to me. "Thank you so much."

I smiled up at him and gave him a quick hug. Then I ducked under his arm and went back out to the living room. I sat in the armchair next to the couch.

He walked back out into the living room and stood over me with his hands in his jeans pockets.

"The warmth of your gratitude is really impressive, Sookie," he said in a sarcastic tone.

I slowly turned to look up at him, my mouth dropping open.

"Are you actually implying that I'm supposed to be warmer or more affectionate with you because you got me my _money_?"

Eric stiffened and suddenly became aware of a definite misstep.

"That was not how I meant it. It came out badly. You ducked away too quickly, that's all." He smiled at me. "And there's not much room for two where you're sitting."

"That's because it's a chair, Eric. A chair generally fits one adult per chair. Unless both are very small. That would not be us."

"Or," he said with a chuckle, "You could think outside the box." And with that he scooped me up, sat down in the chair and placed me in his lap. All before I could even make a peep of protest. "You're usually better at thinking out of the box than I am, Lover. But this time, I had it before you."

Every time he called me Lover it just sent me. And we were now closer than we'd been in months. The soft black t-shirt he was wearing made him look so pale. The deep sapphire blue of his eyes just made my heart flutter. I felt this immense internal struggle inside me. Part of me wanted to run for my very life. And the other part? That part, which was growing larger by the minute, seemed to be in tune with something else that I noticed was, ehem, growing larger. To say I was conflicted was quite an understatement. The previous time I'd gotten involved with Eric it had left me so heartsore that I'd taken a disastrous misstep into my so-called relationship with John Quinn, who'd hardly called, said he was going to stay with me for a month, disappeared and then showed up with a pack of Nevada vampires who took over the state of Louisiana, killing many vampires I knew and liked. I had tried to put all thoughts of Eric far, far out of my mind and had failed repeatedly. And now here he was grinning at me, arm around my waist, mere inches away and quite aroused and arousing. I closed my eyes and looked away.

Eric took advantage of my turned head to nuzzle and then softly kiss my neck. I jumped and tried to rise but he held me firmly in his lap and pulled me even closer toward him with one arm. Then he gently turned my face to him and whispered,

"Sookie, I want to kiss you…"

This was a departure, since usually he just confidently tried to take what he wanted. His fangs were more than halfway down. I thought about him biting me. As in the 'I wanted him to' sense. How messed up was that, I thought somewhere inside my head. I let out a small gasp and looked in his eyes. I felt flooded with a desire that I knew was not entirely my own. It was so strong it made me tremble in his arms. I did not say no, so he began to kiss me softly then gradually more and more passionately as his hands tangled in my hair. I felt him hard against my hip and I moaned.

Suddenly I just pulled back from him, my heart pounding. I'd disconnected from what I knew were his feelings and reconnected with the other part of what I was feeling, which was basically panic. Now there was no boyfriend I could claim to keep my distance. No, I was going to get hurt again. Really, really hurt. Getting hurt a second time was going to be even worse because I'd really have something to beat myself up over if I fell into it all over again.

I tried to get up but Eric didn't let me escape from his arm around my waist. He brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear and looked at me as if assessing the situation.

"When did you start being afraid of me again?"

_Around about the time I realized you'd forgotten all about me and my heart felt like it had been smashed into about a thousand pieces and then you were cold and distant for months and weren't even acting like my friend anymore. But then it got better and I don't want to go through the whole thing again because if I do I'll _hate_ myself for being so stupid. And I don't care what you think you remembered, it wasn't you and you won't be that way again because it wasn't really you_, _and you do not really want me the way I need to be wanted_, I thought to myself.

"I just think this is a bad idea Eric. You said a movie. I thought we'd just hang out and watch a movie."

"We can watch the movie or we can talk. It's up to you," he said as he released his arm from around my waist.

I got up carefully, went back to the couch, wrapped myself up in the quilt and pressed play on the remote. Eric rose from the chair and sat next to me on the couch, arms crossed over his chest, staring straight ahead. As I stared at the list of characters from Tara and Twelve Oaks I felt a rush of frustration and disappointment from him.

In the middle of the barbecue scene at Twelve Oaks he glanced over at me and saw the tears on my cheeks. He glanced back at the TV for an instant, puzzled, and then pulled me over to him, pressing his cool cheek against my tear-streaked one.

"We need to start over again," he whispered softly to me.

I picked up the remote and hit pause.

With his cheek still against mine, I said, "Damn it, Eric, the movie is four hours long. If we keep stopping it or restarting it, it's going to take _forever_."

He burst out laughing, pulled back and then tousled my hair, shaking his head.

"_Not the movie_, Lover…"

Well then, what did he mean? Oh…

He pulled me closer, wrapped his arm around me and rested his chin against my temple. Then he took the remote out of my hand and pressed play. I closed my eyes for a moment and just savored the feeling of his arms around me. I was flooded with a sense of warmth.


	2. Chapter 2

**Dead and Gone, With The Wind**

* * *

_**Eric**_

He weighed it carefully in his mind. Long vs. scary vs. funny. Long was probably better. It would buy him more time and she had mentioned it in Jackson that time over a year ago, as something he should see. That was good because it meant he had listened and remembered. He wrote out _Gone with the Wind_ for the human assistant to pick up and glanced at the clock over the door to his office once again. Just after 1 am. They'd probably be closing still so better to wait another ten minutes or so. He busied himself sifting through paperwork, talking to Pam, and then to Clancy. He had been pleased to hear from Clancy earlier in the evening that Compton's attempt to ingratiate himself to her had earned the complete brush off. Compton was such an idiot. Pointing out that she was alone and might need his help around her home? Clearly he had not been paying even the slightest attention to her reactions to such things. Pam had confirmed weeks ago that she had broken with the tiger, although he still wasn't clear about when she had. Pam's conversation with the witch who lived in the house was not specific enough. He was hoping it wasn't too recent, especially since the weretiger was organizing the events in Vegas and would likely be there. Sookie was proud and conscious of her reputation. She would not be pleased to look as if she was hopping from man to man, of this he was sure. He was contemplating how to broach the subject of the accommodations in Vegas. He was sure she was not going to be pleased, but there was no way around it. From his perspective, Felipe's staff was doing him a favor by pushing things along to where he was sure they should be, anyway. By having it official in Felipe's eyes that she was his, she was that much safer. Felipe knew about the bond, and since Eric was older than most it was not a bond that could easily be superseded. She was under their protection and she would be officially his. The only missing piece was her wanting to be.

1:22 am. Perhaps it was better to wait a bit longer. If they were closing out and closing up until Monday it might take longer than usual for her to finish. Dawson was following her home under the pretext of seeing the witch. Compton was keeping an eye on her as much as possible, under strict instructions not to be obvious about it. With the shifter gone because of his family situation, it was something of a problem to use Compton. But it was better than trusting to Bubba, who would likely either reveal the situation inadvertently or leave a few bodies around that would be hard to explain. Either way, she wouldn't be pleased that he had her watched.

At 1:35 am he dialed her cell phone number.

She picked up on the fourth ring, just before it went to voicemail.

"Can I call you back? I'm driving and it's really dark and I just almost hit a deer."

"Sure. When you're home. Drive carefully."

She called back twenty minutes later. He was beginning to think that she had forgotten.

"Sorry it took a while. I was chatting with Amelia and Tray and then I realized the battery was almost dead and had to move the charger from my kitchen. What's up?"

"Things run smoothly at the bar?"

"It was okay. Tray's not used to bartending, but it was fine. So, what's up?"

In a carefully light voice he said, "You're closed tomorrow, right?"

"Yes, but we're going into the bar in the afternoon to check stock on everything and try to see what we can do about the schedule for the next week because we're short staffed."

"But you'll be free by the evening?"

There was a pause but then she said, "Yes. Free but tired."

"But I could visit you at home?"

Another pause, and then she said, "Sure."

"How about I bring a movie?"

Now there was a longer silence but he felt this slow swell of pleasure from her. Good.

"Okay. But nothing too gory, okay? Not into that. Seen too much of it in real life."

He chuckled. "Okay. Nothing gory. How about 7:00 pm?"

"Sounds like a plan. I'm going to let you go because I really need to try to get some rest."

He thought of playfully suggesting a shower for relaxation but immediately thought better of it. "I hope you rest well. I'll look forward to seeing you tomorrow, then."

"Good night."

He was pleased. Waiting this long appeared to have been the right move. She sounded more open to things. He had kept up a slow and steady campaign of calls and messages and sending her flowers, which admittedly, Pam had suggested. He had come to the conclusion for that for all her being brave enough to pull people from collapsing buildings or drive her car over very large and violent vampires, she was amazingly skittish about relationships. The no-pressure approach seemed to have worked well. He had learned a great deal from watching all the others' mistakes.

**

* * *

  
**

He knocked on the door at 7:00 pm and she showed him in. She smiled and looked happy after he hugged her. She was wearing jeans and a dark red v-necked pullover sweater, and fuzzy red socks rather than shoes. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail but he noticed she was wearing mascara and a bit of perfume. She wore nail polish that matched the sweater. He glanced around and was happy to see that both of the witches appeared to be absent. She commented about Octavia spending more and more time in Shreveport with her niece, who had two small children. He assumed that Amelia was out with Dawson, since Pam had informed him they were dating.

She offered him a True Blood, which he accepted. She poured herself a glass of iced tea and set both down on coasters on the coffee table in the living room. He handed her the dvd and took off his leather jacket and hung it up in the closet himself. She looked a little surprised by the choice of film and had an odd smile on her face. He was pleased because it was obvious that she remembered and realized he did as well. He sat on the couch, slipped off his shoes, and feeling expansive, propped his feet up on the coffee table while he took a sip of the True Blood. She gave him quite the look. He glanced at the coffee table, which did appear, now that he looked at it, to be what the humans termed an antique, a concept that rather amused him when applied to anything less than five hundred years old. But he moved his feet off the table and carefully replaced the bottle on the coaster with a smile. He admired the view as she bent over to put the dvd into the player. She sat back on the couch, as far away as she could get, and pulled that hideous quilt of her grandmother's over her. She was silent, looking at the TV. She seemed nervous or at least uncomfortable, in spite of the fact that he could feel she was happy. He could make small talk to set her at ease.

"So how is the shifter's mother?"

"She'll be okay, but it was a close call. She lost a lot of blood."

She seemed pleasantly surprised that he would even bother asking. Of course, she didn't know that he'd been using the shifter to keep tabs on her for many, many months. With the exception of his having allowed her to attend that Were takeover battle just before the Nevada takeover, the shifter had done a good job. That particular night he was grateful to have learned Claudine showed up to protect her since the shifter had failed miserably at keeping her out of the whole business. He'd given Alcide Herveaux a piece of his mind about dragging her into that one. It appeared to have sunken into Herveaux's mind, since they'd seemingly kept her at the very edges of the Were Revelation until the moment that it had taken place. He tried to make himself very clear that any further services from Sookie were to go through him first and that she was not to be put in any position where she might come to harm. He'd also put Clancy and Bill in place as security at Merlotte's, when he'd found out she was working that night. Sam had argued that she'd be mad and hurt if he'd taken her off the schedule and then she found out after the fact about the demonstration in the bar. He'd conceded the point and compromised by sending Clancy to help Bill keep things secure. Clancy would guard Sookie and Bill would handle the locals. He'd really enjoyed telling Bill Compton that he wouldn't be responsible for Sookie.

"What did she change into, that he got so scared he shot her?" he asked trying to keep up the same topic.

"You know, actually I don't even know. I forgot to ask him. Maybe he was just so startled. Who knows. Are you fine without captions? Lived here long enough to get all the Deep South accents including the fake ones?"

"Yes, that's fine. So you are managing okay with the bar?"

"A work in progress. Terry and Tray are covering the bartending part. The major problem is being down a waitress because Arlene quit in a hissy-fit over Sam being a shifter. But I can do all the rest of stuff like ordering, accounting, setting the schedules and all that. He told the bank I could do payroll but we're all on EFT, so it shouldn't be much of a problem. I can just do it on the computer from the office. I just have to calculate the hours. It's mostly just finding a new waitress to replace Arlene and stuff."

"You know, if you would like any help…" he could offer, but he was sure that she'd…

She cut him off. "No, we're fine. But thanks for the offer."

She still remembers Twining, he thought to himself. Fucking Hot Rain. That had been too close for comfort.

"Heard from Niall?" Her charming great-grandfather. How long was that going to go before he started fucking up her life, he wondered. He seriously had to get things more settled before that could happen, so he could make it clear to Niall that he was not going to interfere in her life. As it was, Niall had been furious over the aborted phone call the night of the takeover. That had been a row… Niall had implied that he'd get back at him for that one but he still had no idea how Niall thought he'd do that.

She hit the pause button on the remote. "Eric are we gonna watch the movie or not?"

She looked slightly annoyed. But she had completely missed the fact that he had edged nearer to her on the couch.

"I presume you have seen the opening credits?" How many times had she seen this thing he wondered.

She rolled her eyes at him but did not hit play. "Yes, I have, but I'm trying to figure out if you want to talk or watch."

He looked at her and tried not to let what he was really thinking show too much. His beautiful blood-bound partner on a couch, with her delicious taste and winsome nature. How long had it been since he had had the pleasure of her? Too long. And how long since he had been with someone he really genuinely liked, who genuinely liked him? He frankly couldn't even remember. _Self-control…_ He was going to take things slowly so they would not go wrong.

"Well, we haven't had much of chance to talk recently," he said with a faint smile.

She gave him quite a look at that one. The only time she had called _him_ in the past two and a half months, however, was either to return his phone call or message to her, to thank him awkwardly for the flowers he'd sent, or on one occasion to get Sandy Sechrest's contact number for Copley Carmichael, who had lost it.

"We chatted just this past week," she pointed out.

That would have been about the Vegas trip. Well, no time like the present, he said inwardly. The sooner she accepts things, the easier everything will be. He was hoping she was not going to get too upset. Because they were _not_ going to make any changes to the plan and she _was_ going to be sharing that room with him.

"Actually, I have to discuss a bit more about the travel arrangements with you."

She sighed and put the dvd player's remote on the coffee table. She looked annoyed as she glanced over at the image paused on the TV.

There were two potential points of contention that he could foresee. The first was that she had just been seen in Rhodes, in the fall, with Quinn and he knew she was not the type of woman who would like having a reputation for hopping from man to man. In fact, she was seemingly quite uncomfortable with the whole dating situation as far as maintaining her privacy went. She had flat out refused to talk to Pam about the weretiger, for instance, when Pam had been sent to inquire if they'd broken up. The second point was that he knew she was going to take the hotel arrangements badly, because she had had no say over what the arrangements were. And she was going to just have to accept those arrangements. But first things first.

"When did you break with the Tiger?" he asked, trying for a neutral and not too interested tone.

She gave him a rather withering look. He couldn't help himself and smirked. He had been, he thought with a laugh, dying to know.

"Why would that be any of your business, Eric?" she asked with a definite edge.

"I would like to know," he replied continuing to look at her steadily while trying very hard not to look too eager.

She looked at him resentfully, as if not sure she should even reply. Finally, it seemed she decided it was just better to give him what he wanted.

"About six hours after you, Bill and that Victor Madden left my house. And that's all I'll say on the subject."

He tried not to give away his surprise, and even greater pleasure, over the timing. The fucking tiger had almost gotten them killed, as far as he was concerned, after basically leading the Nevada crew to her house. And she'd dumped him in less than a day after the event? She must have been hopping mad. He hoped that she had been brutal. The thought that the were had ever even touched her was offensive. At least he had not had his hands on her after the bond was made, of that he was sure. How he would enjoy having her on his arm in Vegas. He had told Quinn at the beginning that she was his, and he was right. But all he said was,

"That will work well, then."

"What will work? What's it to you?" She looked at him as if she didn't get what he meant.

"It's more what it is to you, which is looking as if you have waited an 'appropriate' length of time."

"I'm beginning to feel like I'm doing one of those Jumble puzzles in the newspaper where I'm supposed to figure out the answer to a riddle from a whole bunch of words or letters that I rearrange. You're not making any sense."

Well, he might as well just get it over with, so she could act out, get over it and they could get on with it.

"We're sharing the room. In Vegas. Felipe is under the impression that you're mine, and I'm certainly not doing anything to let him to think otherwise."

No, he was definitely not going to let anyone have the impression that it was in any way a possibility that she was available for anyone else. He looked at her intently, and felt a rush of emotions from her. It was hard to say whether she was mad or embarrassed. She blushed strongly, but he was going to have to go with mad as the overriding emotion.

"It's so nice that my feelings on the matter were taken into consideration. I'm so flattered that _my_ opinion matters to all of you," she said acidly.

She actually looked as if she so was so mad she could hardly even sit still. She got up to take his empty bottle of blood to the kitchen.

He came up behind her, even though he knew she really didn't like the vampire fast approach. But she was upset and he didn't want her upset. She turned from rinsing the bottle in the sink and faced his chest. He placed his arms on either side of her. He looked down at her gently, but she wouldn't look up to meet his eyes. She was breathing as if she was very agitated. She smelled heavenly.

"Sookie, the arrangements were made by Felipe's staff. As I said, I have no intention of leading him to believe otherwise as to whom you belong. And I really wouldn't think you'd want to do so, either."

You don't even want to get involved with that crew, he thought to himself. Talk about being treated like beef cattle. Besides, she was his. And sooner or later she would not just see that, but enjoy it again. In every room of her house and his house and in every possible position. Or while dancing or watching movies or even just reading a book. His.

"What I'd want would be to not go at all. Or to have a choice about where and with whom I stay. Is Pam in the same room?"

She was clearly not liking the idea much. Perhaps the distraction of the other plans…

"Pam is not attending. On the positive side, I've gotten us tickets to several shows, including the Cirque du Soleil. I thought you would enjoy that."

"But I thought you said that the two nights were already scheduled with various formalities and everything?" She finally looked up at him, puzzled.

"We're staying two extra days." He smiled down at her. In a suite, he thought to himself, with many comfortable surfaces, a tub and many, many mirrors.

She did not look the least impressed with the shows, the extra days, or the entire plan.

"Eric, that's two extra days I miss work! I _need_ to work, remember? And I only asked Sam for three days off. Now it looks like it could be five days off? We're already short staffed. I can't do that to Sam."

"I'll send him someone from the club to work in your place then. Don't worry about it."

She was now very agitated and he could sense that she was worried. She wasn't worried just about Sam. She was worried about making ends meet. Now he had his ace in the hole. After more than a month of arguing with Felipe's people and finally even directly with Felipe, he had gotten Felipe to agree to pay Sookie what Sophie-Anne had owed her for Rhodes. It was, after all, Louisiana's debt. He had also pointed out that she was simply going to refuse to work for any of them again if she had not been paid for work already rendered, and work which represented a considerable source of income to her.

He touched his finger under her chin and tipped her face upward to meet his eyes and smiled. "I've gotten Felipe to agree to pay what Sophie-Anne owed you for Rhodes, Lover. So I think you'll come back with money in the bank, don't worry."

The look of amazement on her face in that moment was worth the one month of hassles it had taken to get the modest sum of money. He would have considered paying Sophie-Anne's debt himself if he hadn't thought she'd be angry if she found out about it.

"Thank you, Eric. I really thought the money was just lost." She looked so incredibly relieved. "Thank you so much."

She smiled up at him and gave him a quick hug. But then she ducked under his arm and went back out to the living room, sitting in the armchair next to the couch.

He walked back out into the living room and stood near her with his hands in his jeans pockets.

"The warmth of your gratitude is really impressive, Sookie," he said. He wasn't sure what he expected but it had somehow involved something more. It had been a lot of work getting Felipe to agree to this.

She slowly turned to look up at him, her mouth open. Now she looked mad all over again.

"Are you actually implying that I'm supposed to be warmer or more affectionate with you because you got me my _money_?"

He stiffened. _My bad. Definitely not what I intended…_

"That was not how I meant it. It came out badly. You ducked away too quickly, that's all." He smiled down at her playfully. "And there's not much room for two where you're sitting."

"That's because it's a chair, Eric. A chair generally fits one adult per chair. Unless both are very small. That would not be us."

She could be so damn cutting at times.

"Or," he said with a chuckle, "You could think outside the box." And with that he picked her up, sat down in the chair, placing her gently in his lap, all so quickly she couldn't even manage time to protest. "You're usually better at thinking out of the box than I am, Lover. But this time, I had it before you."

He immediately felt a surge of all different kinds of emotions from her. Desire mixed with something that almost felt like panic. He wrapped his arm around her waist and drank in her scent. He could feel her rapid pulse and remember her delightful taste, her soft, warm touch. He locked onto her aquamarine blue eyes and all he could think about was having her. In every sense. Her eyes broke away from him. She turned her head, and closed her eyes. His fangs down, he nuzzled against her neck, savoring her, thinking how easy it would be to just nip her lightly but instead he just kissed her softly on her neck taking care not to even graze her with his fangs. He grew so hard against her. He longed to kiss her. He turned her face back to him. She had been so upset about the room and not having choices. He wanted her to have choices. He wanted her to choose him.

"Sookie, I want to kiss you…" he whispered to her softly.

Oh, did that get a response. He felt this immense surge of desire from her as she met his eyes and let out a small gasp. Her desire fed his fed hers… it was like an infinite loop. And oh the grace of having that desire not because of what he was or because of glamour. She desired him and he her. She did not protest and he kissed her gently and then ever more passionately as she twisted toward him in his lap, her hip pressing into him. His hands tangled in her hair. She was his… his… She moaned softly and then, just as he was thinking about shifting to the couch, she suddenly pulled away from him.

He could feel her heart pounding and she looked… afraid? She was afraid of him? After all the time they had been alone together, after all the times he had saved her or she him, she was _afraid_ of him? He brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"When did you start being afraid of me again?" he asked, looking at her probingly.

Then he realized he was partly wrong. She was so clearly not afraid of physical harm. She was afraid of getting hurt emotionally again. That much was clear. She had been so hurt after they had parted when he recovered from Hallow's curse. And he was now keenly aware, after having fully recovered the memories of the incredibly gentle care she had taken of him, that he had often been a complete asshole to her in the months that followed. He had been angry that she had seen him so weak, angry that he couldn't really remember what had passed between them, angry that if they had slept together that rather than trying to continue the relationship with him that she had just taken up with someone else. He remembered how he had been dismissive, and nasty, and had Pam call her every time he wanted to tell her the slightest thing, for many months. He remembered feeling like he was going to backhand Pam for her pointedly telling him that he was being a jerk to Sookie and that he owed her much, much better. And he remembered feeling puzzled that in spite of all of the confused and entangled emotions he felt, emotions which he hated feeling, that he kept on thinking that he had left a part of himself there in Bon Temps, with her. At more than one point he had felt so conflicted and angry he even thought it would be better to just kill her than have to put up with all these feelings he did not want and did not understand. He kept feeling drawn to her, had had her watched closely, followed safely. He had bound her to him to keep her safe, bound her even though she couldn't be controlled. His memory lingered on the wide-eyed panic in her face when trying to rouse him in that hotel room in Rhodes. The worried, pained look in her eyes looking at his bloodied face and injured arm outside of Merlotte's after she drove her car over Sigebert. All she knew was that he was one of the jerks that had left her high and dry after she had been kind and loving. She was afraid of him. Afraid she would just be used, and disposable, as she felt she had been before. She did not know how he had struggled with his emotions. Although, he had caught Pam trying to tell her. But she had no real idea.

"I just think this is a bad idea Eric. You said a movie. I thought we'd just hang out and watch a movie."

"We can watch the movie or we can talk. It's up to you," he said as he released his arm from around her waist.

She got up carefully, went back to the couch, wrapped herself up in the quilt and pressed play on the remote. The movie was safe. Talk was cheap. _How many men have lied to her_, he wondered.

He rose from the chair and sat next to her on the couch, arms crossed over his chest, staring straight ahead, trying to watch the film while brooding. Frustrated, disappointed, recognizing that this was going to take serious work on his part to fix things and regain her trust. Flowers and phone calls were not going to be sufficient. She was not one to be bought or sweet-talked, not one to be lulled into trust easily, especially not on the heels of Compton and Quinn. On the other hand, given her seemingly unswerving loyalty and fidelity in the face of even apparent abandonment by a partner, she appeared in every way to be worth the effort. She had forgiven him enough to still be his friend, he thought in reflection, which is certainly more than she's willing to give Bill Compton. Though certainly nothing he'd done could even approach what a betraying jerk Compton was with her. What they needed was to start fresh. He was sure he would be able to regain her trust. He would prove to her that things would work.

In the middle of the barbecue scene at Twelve Oaks he glanced over at her and saw the tears on her cheeks. He glanced back at the TV for an instant, puzzled. No, she was definitely crying because of him. Because of her conflicting emotions. _Some corner of her knows she loves me and she's so afraid of that. She's much more frustrated than I am_, he thought to himself. _Because I already know she's mine_. He pulled her to him, and pressed his cheek against hers.

"We need to start over again," he whispered softly to her.

She picked up the remote from within the folds of the quilt and hit pause.

With his cheek still against hers, she said, "Damn it, Eric, the movie is four hours long. If we keep stopping it or restarting it, it's going to take _forever_."

He just burst out laughing, pulled back and then tousled her hair, shaking his head. It was clear she didn't fully grasp his meaning.

"_Not the movie_, Lover…"

He pulled her closer, wrapped his arm around her and rested his chin against her temple. He took the remote out of her hand and pressed play. She leaned into him just slightly.

She was already his.


End file.
